steve wrote:Dear first Ramones album,

Look at this shit. Can you fucking believe this shit? Jesus. At least you didn't live to see it. Except for Tommy, Marky, CJ and Richie. Who don't really count.

But seriously, what the fuck. I miss you man.

The Steve, he first make me laugh and then he make me sad as if to cry! Salut, Steve!

Dear Berserker,


For almost twenty years you are one thing that has always made me feel a little smarter, a little more special than the population at large.

A portable, personal eye of the hurricane, as it were.

In retrospect, I now fully understand that history would not let me end my days on this Earth without allowing me the honor of see your parents back together and getting along famously,
and I laugh at my former naiveté.


You freaky bastard.

Approx. a mile wide, indeed.



Acolytishly,

Jim

Dear The Velvet Underground and Nico:

Thank you for so much happiness, so much beautiful accompaniment to teenage and post-teenage confusion, and so much wonder at the beauty of guitars being messed with in interesting ways. I know you were mostly recorded like crap, and the two men most responsible for your creation are dweebs and assholes, but that does not change the fact you are beautiful and helped change my life for the better. I hope some day to become wealthy enough to own one of your brethren with the peelable cover, but it's OK if I don't -- your battered self as I own you still makes me smile.

Oh, and dear My Aim Is True:

Sure, it's not cool to admit that I thought you were punk rock when I first heard you in 1978. We both know better now. But I wouldn't have listened to all that fine punk rock and related stuff in the 70's and 80's and so on if you hadn't convinced me I would like such things by being such a terriffic record. And you have so many great songs! And the man singing them sounds so angry and puzzled by the world around him, just as I was when I first heard them! When I heard you, I knew I'd found a friend, and even if we don't see one another as often, I'm still happy to know you're around.

cheers,
Mark Lansing

Dear Dear You,

When I purchased you, you made me think to myself as I was driving to high school on my newly acquired drivers license "FUCK YOU IMAGINARY GIRLFRIEND!" You see, I was not really dating anyone around that time and I really wished I was, so that I could get pissed off at her and play "Sluttering" from a boombox while standing on her lawn.

Now as I am a little bit older, I am curious as to how I have outgrown your teenage angsty lyrics, yet I am now pretty much the same age that you were when you wrote them. Oh well, I can still enjoy the kick ass multitracked guitars, and remember a time when the lyrics meant so much to me. Thank you in particular for having the phrase "All limbs intact" in one of your songs because it gave me a great idea for a band name.

I don't care what the others think about you in comparison to your brothers, I've always thought you were a swell dude, and I listen to you every once in a while. I am also glad that Jets to Brazil is no longer making any half brothers for you.

Regards,
Todd

Dear Painful by Yo La Tengo,

You got one thing right.

regards,
km

Dear Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere,

It's been a while since we spent time together, but I still see you around. I think about saying hi, but, well, you know how it goes. Things remind me of the time we spent together now and then - something somebody says, a look on a stranger's face here and there, that kind of thing.

Remember the guy who introduced us? The sad, fat guy who was drinking himself to death? He played one of your songs on guitar that one time, and told me to look you up. I'm glad I did, because we became great friends. I know we don't see each other a whole lot these days, but that's how life goes, isn't it? Don't get me wrong, I still think you're great. You are straight talking and tough, but wistful and romantic too. It's just that when I spend time with you I can't help but think about our sad, fat friend, drinking himself to death.

I still have your number. I'll call you some time, and we can meet up and talk about old times. Maybe have a beer. But just the one, okay?

with love,

space junk

Dear Fragile,

I know, as a punk rocker, I'm not supposed to be seen associating with you. Plus, you wrote your songs by tape splicing parts together while wacked out on angel dust, and I just don't like that. Still, I can't help but really love the time we spend together. Please tell me the secret to your bass tone.

Ben Adrian

dear mr. beast,

what happened to the mogwai? did it eat after midnight?


sincerely,

bjorn stutgaart
age 9

Dear Mezzotint by Chris Herbert(cjh)

I just wanted to embarrass Chris by saying how good this record is.


Love,

Christopher_Dragon

ps. Do you know Play?

Dear Exile on Main St.:

Thank you for not making fun of me when I was trying to stop taking drugs and smoked up everything on the premises ridiculously fast while listening to you in your entirety at maximum volume and playing along on a Jew's harp until my lips were bleeding and two of my teeth were chipped.

Thanks also for being such a wide, deep record that you still sound great despite these embarrassing associations.

Finally, thanks for being the only record I did not tire of among the six cassettes I brought along on a four-month trip to the Himalayas.

Your friend,

Brett